


Reclamations

by irisbleufic



Series: Delicate, Dangerous, Obsessed [39]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Asexual Character, Asexuality Spectrum, Consensual Kink, Cuddling & Snuggling, Demisexual Character, Demisexuality, Disability, Do not translate without permission or copy to another site/app, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Gender Dysphoria, Gender Identity, Genderfluid Character, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Jerome Valeska Lives, Light Dom/sub, Neurodiversity, New Year's Eve, Nonbinary Character, Other, References to Knifeplay, TL;DR That Incident in Jeri's Club in the Previous Fic Led to Something Complex and Worth Examining, Talking, The Perp Got Their Throat Slit in the Story Before This One, Trans Character, references to breathplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:14:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22257037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irisbleufic/pseuds/irisbleufic
Summary: Feeling utterly drained, Five curled into Jerome, clinging to him.  “I believe you.  It’s just…”“Preachin’ to the choir,” Jerome said, tucking Five’s hair behind his ear.  “That’s all anyone ever told me.  What a fuck-up I was, how broken I was.  Didn’t start to think maybe that was wrong until they locked me up the first time, and I didn’t decide it definitely was wrong until I met you.”“Yeah, but, objectively,” Five said, realizing how funny it was, “we are broken and fucked-up.”“Yeah,and?” Jerome countered, bumping his nose against Five’s cheek.  “This right here—” he gestured between the two of them “—is subjective.  Specific to us, our experiences, our circumstances.  It matters.  You taught me that.”
Relationships: 514A & Jerome Valeska, 514A/Jerome Valeska, Jeremiah Valeska & Bruce Wayne, Jeremiah Valeska/Bruce Wayne, References to Family & Non-Romantic Connections for Each
Series: Delicate, Dangerous, Obsessed [39]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/726708
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	Reclamations

Five wasn’t surprised to see a sleek, dark sedan waiting for him and Jerome in the alley behind Celestial Garden. That didn’t mean he wanted to know how Bruce had known to send it.

“Get in,” Five said, holding the back door open for Jerome, and then climbed in after him. “Penthouse,” he said curtly to the driver, sliding the partition shut.

Jerome sprawled against the seat, panting, his eyes dark and unfocused. “Close one, huh?”

Five snatched Jerome’s pocket square and wiped the remaining traces of blood off his face. He slid his free hand between Jerome’s legs, knowing they’d have time thanks to traffic.

“Somebody’s hard,” Five remarked, rubbing the heel of his palm along Jerome’s length.

Jerome eagerly kissed Five. “Perfect storm in there. Murder and kisses from my princess.”

Five nodded in fierce agreement, deepening the kiss. He slid off the seat, knelt on the floor between Jerome’s spread thighs, and unfastened Jerome’s bottom layers.

Jerome moaned, hips jerking involuntarily against Five’s hand. “But I thought—”

“I’m still planning on keeping your mouth busy all night,” Five said, “but I think you deserve some attention first. You’ve been so good.”

Jerome’s eyelids fluttered as his head fell back. “You take such good care of me, precious,” he slurred, licking his lips. “Too good.”

Five worked his hand inside Jerome’s underwear, touching his skin. Tricky proposition, because Jerome often got off on touches like this before Five could even blow him. He didn’t actually mind when that happened, because it was extremely hot.

“Can you hold on for me?” Five asked earnestly, leaning in to mouth at Jerome’s neck, following the kiss with a sharp bite. “I want to taste you.”

Jerome shuddered, eyes shut tight as Five delivered slow, undemanding strokes. He shook his head wildly, and then switched to nodding as Five drew his cock out.

“Handsome,” Five sighed, bending to rub his cheek against the heated softness of him. “Just like the rest of you,” he added, irked as he remembered the dead bouncer’s words.

_In a hurry, aren’t you? Folks are sayin’ all kinds of stuff. Guess I’m gonna lose a bet._

Five had sneered _Why, ’cause I didn’t let you get a look?_ and punched his lights out.

“Five, you gotta...” Jerome breathed out harshly, squirming as Five nuzzled him. “Please.”

Five nodded in answer, holding Jerome steady while he took the tip of him in his mouth. 

Willing the sting to go away, Five thought about their first night in Jeri’s safe house all those months ago, how Jerome had trusted him enough to let him try this. How he’d done the same for Five the next morning, how he hadn’t _cared_ that Five didn’t look quite like he did.

Jerome pulled the elastic out of Five’s hair, threading worshipful fingers through it. “Love you, pretty baby,” he rasped. “So much. Gonna make you feel so good when we get—”

Five took Jerome as deep as he could this time. Size wasn’t everything. Even Jerome wasn’t much more than the upper end of average, as far as Five had seen working the Foxglove.

That was enough to make Jerome whine, his entire body taut as he spilled down Five’s throat. His trembling fingers tightened briefly in Five’s hair before going slack.

Five took a second to catch his breath, wiping his mouth on the blood-smeared pocket square. 

“We’ll be home in ten minutes. I want you out of these clothes as soon as we’re in the door.”

“Folks in the lobby won’t appreciate that,” said Jerome, deadpan, but he winked and pulled Five up to straddle him. He braced his palm at the small of Five’s back and rolled his hips.

Five closed his eyes and whimpered, writhing in Jerome’s lap. He was turned-on, and Jerome knew it. He also knew Five liked grinding on him as much as he loved Five’s hands.

“I won’t tease if you wanna wait,” Jerome murmured against Five’s ear. He cradled the back of Five’s head with his free hand. “Hey, you okay?”

“No more talking,” Five said, pressing two fingers against Jerome’s mouth. “You’re pushing it.”

Drawing in his breath, Jerome closed his lips around Five’s fingers and sucked. He made a cross-my-heart gesture between their chests, his expression adoring.

 _I’m lucky_ , Five reminded himself, breathing to distract himself from the ache of arousal. _Lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky he wants me anyway._

Five wouldn’t have known anything was different about him— _wrong_ with him, above and beyond what Strange did to him—if he hadn’t broken into Indian Hill and salvaged those files. He wouldn’t have met Jerome, either. Cursed knowledge was the price he paid for love.

Jerome held up both hands and flashed six fingers at him, still obediently sucking on Five’s.

“Fuck,” Five blurted, recalling their safe-word. He yanked his fingers from Jerome’s mouth. “What’s the matter, fuck, what did I do, I didn’t think—”

“ _Shhh_ ,” Jerome hissed, grunting as the car hit the curb on their way into the parking garage. “You didn’t. It’s…darlin’, are you _sure_ there’s nothin’ bugging you?”

Five considered whether or not to mention the bouncer’s exact words. He realized that Jerome hadn’t been close enough to hear anything until after he had thrown his punch.

“Everything’s fine,” Five insisted, shifting off Jerome’s lap as the car came to a stop. “C’mon.”

As they stepped out of the parking-garage elevator into the lobby, Five noted that the security guard presented as feminine. He wondered if that was by design, too. Bruce probably knew that, with two exceptions—Lila Valeska and Captain Essen—Jerome wasn’t known for targeting women.

That was a relief, if Five was honest. It had never occurred to him to be afraid of Jerome, but when he’d first met Jerome, he hadn’t been at his most feminine-presenting. Not that it occurred to him to be all that afraid of _anyone_ , but he’d been nervous around men in the past. 

Jerome followed him into the lobby elevator, silent and watchful. As soon as the door closed and Five tapped his badge against the number for their floor, he stepped into Five’s space and lay his head submissively on Five’s shoulder.

Five kissed Jerome’s hair, holding him close. He wouldn’t have the heart to be especially cruel tonight, even if Jerome asked for a scene. He’d gotten his fill of violence at the club.

“Are you gonna want me to cut you?” Five asked as the elevator whisked them smoothly upward.

Shaking his head, Jerome pressed a lazy kiss to the side of Five’s neck. He trailed one gloved fingertip from the hollow of Five’s throat around to his nape and mimed pressing down with thumb and forefinger.

“Ah,” Five said, tracing Jerome’s scarring from his temple down to his jawline. He considered whether or not he had any desire to incorporate breathplay in his plans. “Got it.”

Five wondered what the bodyguard might have attempted to do if he hadn’t struck him first.

Jerome lifted his head and tilted it at Five. His baseline perceptiveness was irritatingly precise. Any time he displayed obliviousness, it was either for show or a side-effect of distress.

Five kissed him deeply as the elevator glided to a halt, forcing him to backpedal into the hall.

“Stop dawdling,” he said mildly, but sternly, stepping back so he could push Jerome ahead.

Jerome could walk faster than Five when he put his mind to it. Five had to dash to catch up, snagging the penthouse door before it had the chance to fully swing shut. He collected Jerome’s hastily-dropped security badge from the floor and set it on the coffee table.

By the time Five shed his boots and got to the bedroom doorway, Jerome was sitting naked on the edge of the mattress. They’d left the bed unmade, which cut down on distraction.

Five took his time getting undressed, as if Jerome wasn’t there. He paused in front of the full-length mirror to shake out his hair and check the neat row of five titanium helix studs he’d gotten in his right ear a few days after Christmas. The pain part, he hadn’t benefited from, but Jerome had abashedly asked him to bed almost the minute they got home from the piercer.

Jerome tried to stifle the involuntary click of his throat, a reminder more concrete than memory.

Feeling less confident than he ought in spite of the recent positive reinforcement, Five crawled onto the bed from the opposite side. Just as he was about to catch Jerome from behind and get them tangled in each other, Jerome slid onto the floor and knelt there.

“It’s late,” Five said, sitting in the spot Jerome had occupied until a moment ago. He swung his legs forward, locking his ankles behind Jerome’s back, using the leverage to draw him forward. “Excuse me, early. Maybe I’ll make you do it later today instead.”

Jerome looked put-out, so Five gave him a filthy kiss and said, “What are you waiting for?”

Instantly engaged, Jerome leaned in and trailed wet kisses from Five’s throat down to his hip. He buried his face against Five’s belly, lapping at the underside of Five’s cock, trapping it.

Five didn’t feel particularly upset about that, but maybe it was because he’d been avoiding looking at that part of himself. Given what Jerome was doing and how he was doing it, he didn’t necessarily _have_ to look, either. He wasn’t at risk of coming like he’d been in the car, not yet, so he tugged at Jerome’s hair and focused on how good it felt.

After about a minute, Jerome sat back on his heels and took Five’s cock in his hand. He studied it intently before delivering another reverent, open-mouthed kiss, this time to the head.

Five squashed the sudden, intense self-loathing that looking at himself from this angle produced. 

Perhaps sensing Five’s distress, Jerome took Five’s cock—half Jerome’s length when erect, if _that_ —into his mouth. He sucked greedily, already doing that thing with his tongue that Five especially liked, taking hold of Five’s hips and urging him to move.

Five decided he could do worse than choke Jerome _this_ way, although how much choking could he really do? It was a miracle Jerome had even reacted the first time Five had fucked him, and the subsequent times, let alone…

Jerome stopped what he was doing, tilting his chin up. He flashed six fingers like he’d done in the car, all five on his right hand plus the index on his left—and used the latter to point at Five.

Unable to ignore the sudden stinging in his eyes, Five nodded desperately. “Can I lie down?”

“That’s not how this was supposed to work, but—oh, sweet pea,” Jerome cajoled, snapping out of whatever measure of sub-drop he’d been reveling in since the club. “What can I do?”

Five pulled Jerome down to lie against his side, guiding Jerome’s hand between his legs. He tipped his head back into the pillow, eyes closed, feeling better now he couldn’t see himself.

“Like this,” he whispered, winding his arms around Jerome’s neck. “Kiss me while you…”

“Hey, hey, _shhh_ ,” Jerome replied, lips already pressed to Five’s. “Does that feel okay?”

Five nodded, gasping helplessly against Jerome’s mouth as Jerome stroked him to climax.

Jerome wiped his hand on the sheet, and then cupped Five’s cheek. “You tell me whatever you need to. Or don’t. I have the feeling I offed that guy before asking if he deserved worse.”

Hating himself, Five burst into tears. He was so tired and upset he didn’t know where to start. 

“There—there was some kind of bet between him and, and—somebody else there! I don’t even know who. He made it sound like he was supposed to get—get a _look_ at me! But I used one of the stalls. It’s not like either of those restrooms is labeled anything, because Jeri’s cool like that. I just—hate that I’m like this! I was all wrong even before they went and broke me!”

Jerome was quiet for a while after Five had finished shouting. He nuzzled Five’s wet cheeks, stroking Five’s hair while he cried himself out. He grabbed a handful of tissues from the nightstand, let Five blow his nose a bunch of times, and then dropped them on the floor.

“So, I guess…that’s that,” Five said blearily. “Jeri will totally forgive you for slitting his throat.”

Jerome nodded in solemn agreement, and then said, “Just so we’re clear, there’s nothing wrong with you. Not anywhere. You’re not _sick_ anymore, but that’s different from there being something wrong. What they did to you was wrong, but the…way you were born? Wasn’t.”

Five felt like bursting into tears all over again, this time out of gratitude. “Are you sure?”

“Look, princess. I especially and specifically like you the way you are, up here—“ Jerome tapped Five’s temple “— _and_ down here.” He ran his hand from Five’s collarbone the whole way down to Five’s ankle drawn up against his calf. “In fact, with…sex stuff, it’s…that I can…” Jerome had difficulty articulating specific acts sometimes, years of habitual mental deflection kicking in. “I can take everything you’ve got, no matter what we do, without it freaking me the hell out. That just-right thing I said early on? I meant it. There’s all kinds of reasons I couldn’t be with other people in, uh, bed. I’m just not interested in somebody who isn’t you.”

Feeling utterly drained, Five curled into Jerome, clinging to him. “I believe you. It’s just…”

“Preachin’ to the choir,” Jerome said, tucking Five’s hair behind his ear. “That’s all anyone ever told me. What a fuck-up I was, how broken I was. Didn’t start to think maybe that was wrong until they locked me up the first time, and I didn’t decide it definitely was wrong until I met you.”

“Yeah, but, objectively,” Five said, realizing how funny it was, “we are broken and fucked-up.”

“Yeah, _and_?” Jerome countered, bumping his nose against Five’s cheek. “This right here—” he gestured between the two of them “—is subjective. Specific to us, our experiences, our circumstances. It matters. You taught me that.”

“As smart as we are,” Five yawned, “we’re really fucking foolish. I’m glad it’s mutual.”

“You need to go to sleep, precious,” Jerome said. “I need to make sure Brucie’s not blowing up our phones. He sent that car, so somebody must’ve told him. I don’t think it was Jeri.”

Five relaxed as Jerome turned out the light and grabbed his cell. “Fish or Lee has an informant. There’s no way either one of them would risk leaving the competition unmonitored.”

“Didn’t think about that,” Jerome sighed, audibly scrolling through texts, “but I bet you’re right. Blah blah _blah_ , let’s see—maybe Birdman didn’t send Ivy and the GF. There’s lots of apologies from Ivy about Olga and her pet ape showing up.” He fell silent, scrolling some more. “Huh.”

Five was already drifting, lethargic with dopamine and catharsis. “What is it?” he managed.

“Nothin’ we need to worry about until tomorrow, baby…” Instead of saying _boy_ and _girl_ in sequence like he might usually do, Jerome paused. “Five?”

“Hmmm?” Five hummed, nuzzling Jerome’s warm shoulder. He was close to the edge of sleep.

“You would tell me anything else that’s…new along those lines, right?” Jerome asked quietly.

Five was too exhausted to examine his identity mess right now. “Yes,” he said. “Promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> I found it fascinating that, in a canonical onscreen personal/direct kill-count of 16, only two of Jerome's victims are women. He killed his mother, Lila Valeska, because she abused him for years; he arguably saw Captain Essen as a threat who'd shut him down, whose death was necessary to make a point. From a meta standpoint _and_ in the context of his relationship with Five as I've built it, all of this was too relevant to leave unexamined. These gender issues are beginning to converge.


End file.
